


Not Missing Those Three Words

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Romanichi Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 00:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those three words that are so carelessly thrown around in society nowadays would never pass between the two. They didn't need to be.</p>
<p>*~*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>Written for the 2013 Romanichi Day event on tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Missing Those Three Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is one out of two prompts I claimed for the 2013 Romanichi Day event on tumblr.
> 
> Prompt: They’re both adult men in an established relationship at that point and grand declarations of love are something for teenagers and climactic moments in movies; instead they’ve developed their own little ways of non-verbally showing affection over the years.

They didn’t need to say it. Those three words that are carelessly thrown around nowadays hadn’t passed between the two. It never would. They showed the three words to each other instead of speaking them. It was translated to one another in the simple touches on the arm, the gentle kiss on the mouth, the passionate lip locking behind closed doors, the breathless grabbing of the sheets, the comfortable cuddling.

The Spaniard was more open with his three words and how he showed them. Whether it was just holding the Italian’s hand, or pinning him up against a wall, the Spaniard tried his hardest to let the Italian know how he felt. Still, he never spoke the three words. They didn’t need to be.

The Italian of the South was a bit more shy with his. He still snapped at the Spaniard and complained but let him know that the feeling was reciprocated every day. He told the Spaniard through the careful kisses in private and the clenching of the pillow when only the moon and stars could spy on them. He never spoke the three words either however, because they didn’t need to be.

Their relationship – if you had to give it a name – wasn’t even talked about, it just… happened. It started from a drunken kiss, or maybe a terrible nightmare, or maybe just the sharing of a tomato, but somewhere along the road it stopped being platonic. They hadn’t even noticed until some other nation had asked them about it. The entire thing had just sort of crept up on them.

Even after it had been pointed out to them, nothing really changed between the Italian and Spaniard. The Italian still complained although maybe a bit less, and the Spaniard still smiled although maybe a bit brighter. The bond they held didn’t need words attached to it, tainting it. They didn’t need the three words that mean almost nothing in society now to express their thoughts and emotions.

They weren’t as flamboyant as the American and Briton could sometimes be, nor as serene as the German and Italian of the North. They were their own little adjective, one that didn’t have letters or sounds applied to it. They were just them, two conflicting personalities that managed to meld perfectly.

Yes, the Italian of the South and the Spaniard created an enigma together, but they didn’t really mind. Not when they could feel the other’s thoughts and feelings with a gentle caress of the face. The three words never passed between them, and they didn’t need to be. Anything that could have been said wouldn’t ever be enough to describe them. 


End file.
